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“I’m bored,” Shang Qinghua announces grandly.
“Yes, so you’ve said, fifteen times already,” Shen Qingqiu states dryly, but his friend steamrolls right over him.
“I am so bored, so,” Shang Qinghua says, “Shen-ge. Fuck, marry, kill.”
Shen Qingqiu startles, nearly dropping his fan, he whips around to stare at the other with wide eyes. Shang Qinghua props himself up onto his elbow and the grin that’s on his face is mischievous and evil.
“Wh—Airplane?” He nearly squawks, and then returns the grin. “No, stop—!”
Shang Qinghua’s grin nearly splits his face. “Fuck, marry, kill! Tianlang-jun—”
“No!” Shen Qingqiu laughs, reaching for the nearby cushion to chuck it at his cackling friend.
Shang Qinghua ducks the projectile and continues. “Tianlang-jun, Zhuzhi Lang—”
“Airplane!”
“And Sha Hualing!”
“Her?” Shen Qingqiu shrieks, diving for another pillow. His fan tumbles to the floor. “Out of everyone you could have picked for the options, it had to be her?!”
Shang Qinghua, nimble bastard that he is, managed to avoid this cushion too. “First round will be easy! I definitely didn't have a brain blank and totally forget anyone else existed! Plus! Shen-ge, I have to cater to the player! Bi-represent!”
“If it’s catering to the player, then this isn’t the game to play when it comes to you,” the Qing Jing peak lord grumbles.
He grabs his tea up from the table he sits at and down the entire cup in one go as if it’s a shot.
“You gotta choose!” Shang Qinghua needles, and Shen Qingqiu casts him a glare.
“Goddammit, fine,” he groans. “Um…. Fuck Tianlang-jun—”
Shang Qinghua bursts into laughter.
Shen Qingqiu scowls, but it directly contrasts the grin that is unwillingly stretching across his face. “What? At least I know he’s got experience!”
“Oh my god,” Shang Qinghua gasps, and then waves a hand. “Okay, go on, go on.”
He narrows his eyes at him, and then slowly continues. “Marry Zhuzhi-lang, and kill Sha Hualing.”
“So you really hate her that much?” Shang Qinghua asks curiously.
“No,” Shen Qingqiu shrugs. “I mean, she’s practically a teenager, and I hate teenagers on principal, but no. She was just the only one left.”
“Fair enough,” Shang Qinghua bobs his head in acquiescence. “Why marry Zhuzhi-lang, though?”
“Well, I can’t fuck him—”
“I mean, you could, you monsterfucker—“
“You’re so goddamn rude, you know that?” Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes. “He’s just way too…. too baby. I can’t fuck him, so marry it is.”
“Oh, yeah,” Shang Qinghua finally agrees, staring up at the ceiling in thought. “He is just baby, isn’t he? Okay, good choices, I agree.”
“Your turn,” Shen Qingqiu says dangerously. Immediately, Shang Qinghua raises his hands into the air in surrender.
“I can’t play this game!” He whines. “I can’t fuck anybody! That drastically tilts the answer results!”
“Just change fuck to something else!” Shen Qingqiu demands. “You don’t get to just be the one who asks the question every time, that’s boring as fuck. Listen — kiss, marry, kill?”
“Kissing is like, the same as marrying though,” Shang Qinghua squints at the ceiling. He’s lying on his back now, feet dangling off the side of the bed. He gives them tiny, little kicks as he thinks. “Maybe, like, cuddle?”
“Isn’t that the same as kissing?” Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “Just use kiss, moron.”
“Fine, okay, fine. So! Kiss, marry, kill… who?”
“Kiss, marry, kill… Liu Qingge, Mu Qingfang —”
“Oh my god, bro, please—”
“Listen, this is my revenge — and Mobei Jun.”
Shang Qinghua turns his head away from the so very fascinating ceiling just to glare at him. Shen Qingqiu feels so special, very loved. “You totally suck.”
Shen Qingqiu stoops down to grab his fan off the floor and flips it open just to smirk over the top of it at his friend. “You gotta choose.” He quotes.
“I fucking hate you.”
“I mean, you could go back to being bored, it’s all the same to me.”
Shang Qinghua scoffs, lifting his legs up and pressing the heels of his feet into the bed. “God, okay! Umm… kiss… uhh…”
Shen Qingqiu presses a hand against his mouth to smother his laughter. “I’ll wait.”
“Why the hell did you make this so hard for me?” His friend grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. “You totally hate me don’t you? Um, kiss Mobei Jun—”
“Called it.”
“Shut up, monsterfucker. Kiss Mobei Jun, marry Mu Qingfang, and— oh fuck,” Shang Qinghua sits up and turns toward him, pout out at full force. “There’s only kill left! Shen-ge! I can’t kill Qingge!”
“You gotta,” Shen Qingqiu shakes his head sympathetically. “That’s the game.”
“This isn’t fair! I gave you an easy out on your first go with Sha Hualing, you have to return the favor!”
“You already started choosing!” Shen Qingqiu argues. “Anyone else I give you now is just me choosing a random person for you to kill!”
“I totally forgot kill was a choice after you gave me the names! Shen-geeeee!”
“Goddammit, fine! You can kill Yue Qingyuan, for me, okay?”
Shang Qinghua pauses his wailing to shoot him an amused look, pout vanishing into nothing. What a brat. “You really have it out for that guy, don’t you? Um, alright, sure, I’ll kill the sect leader for you, but only because we’re bros.”
“Don’t turn this back on me! You’re the one who begged me to give you someone else to kill! Anyway, it’s your turn.”
“Haha! Fuck, marry, kill — Rong Qingsheng, Ju Qingsong, and Qi Qingqi.”
“Easy,” Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “Fuck Rong Qingsheng, marry Qi Qingqi, and kill Ju Qingsong. At least try and make this hard for me, Shang-ge, c’mon.”
“Wow,” Shang Qinghua sits up again to look at him, tugging one of the thrown cushions into his lap to hold. “No hesitation at all! You decided that so fast… what’s the thought process?”
“Rong Qingsheng is pretty, and not a douche at all, so I’d rate him pretty up there on the fuckable scale just for that. Qi Qingqi is a scary lesbian Amazonian warrior, and if I wasn’t male I’d definitely go for her, but if she ever needed to marry a man as, like, a cover for her true lesbian activities while under the thumb a homophobic dystopian government or something, then I wouldn’t mind submitting my application for that.”
“She can be pretty, uh…” Shang Qinghua makes a face. “I mean—”
“Purposefully provocative because she likes watching macho men squirm when she takes them down a peg and also has bigger muscles than them?” Shen Qingqiu sighs dreamily. “Yes, it’s boss as fuck.”
“Okay, I wasn’t going to word it exactly like that, but yeah,” Shang Qinghua admits. “And Ju Qingsong?”
“He’s an annoying pest. Kill.”
“Bro!”
“What? Please, You cannot tell me that you haven’t daydreamed about wringing his neck even once?”
“I mean. He can be kinda—”
“Irritating? Aggravating? Drive-one-to-murder?”
“—But! Under all that he’s a good guy! He can be really sweet, actually! He’s only really like that because he’s got a useless gay crush on—!”
The door is kicked in. Shen Qingqiu startles, dropping his tea straight into his lap while Shang Qinghua gives a loud yelp and falls completely off the bed with a resounding thump.
They both whip around to stare in uneasy and slightly-guilty silence at the group of people standing outside the door.
“Oh my gods,” Ju Qingsong says, face pale and arm still outstretched. “It was so amusing at first, but please don’t kill me, I promise I’ll be better!”
Rong Qingsheng leans around the man and stares at them for a moment, before casting Shen Qingqiu a wink.
“I wouldn’t mind,” the mild-mannered man says, and Shen Qingqiu brings a hand up to rub over his face.
“Not that I’m not incredibly interested to hear what this was all about,” Mu Qingfang says, from behind them, and Shang Qinghua squeaks. “But, it’s time for Shen-shixiong to take his medicine.”
“Please don’t tell anyone,” Shang Qinghua pleads, holding his hands up to cover his beet-red face.
“I’ll do you one better,” Shen Qingqiu says calmly, pulling off the tea-drenched outer robe. “If any of you eavesdroppers have loose lips about what you heard here, to anyone, then I will kill you. Understand?”
Ju Qingsong makes an odd sound in his throat, one that sounds both terrified and furious, and the way that the man glances between him and the smirking Rong Qingsheng leads Shen Qingqiu to believe he knows exactly who Shang Qinghua was going to say his ‘crush’ was. How adorable. Too bad Rong Qingsheng seems to find the man just as annoying as Shen Qingqiu does.
“There will be no murdering of martial family,” Mu Qingfang says mildly, stepping into the room. “Is that water boiled? I thought I’d try the tea blend, since the capsule form doesn’t agree with you, shixiong.”
“Many thanks,” Shen Qingqiu says.
“Oh, it’s never a problem. Shang-shixiong, Qingge was looking for you. I believe he has the location of one of those flying thunder beasts the two of you were discussing the other day?”
“I don’t wanna go monster hunting again,” Shang Qinghua wails. “Why can’t he just play go with me and call it a day?”
“You’ve overstayed your welcome, Shang-ge,” Shen Qingqiu tells him, smiling politely at the betrayed look his friend shoots him. “Would you mind escorting these two out?”
“See if I ever bring you the newest tea leaf export again,” the An Ding lord huffs, climbing to his feet. “Come on, Rong-shidi, Ju-shidi.”
“Qingsheng, Qingsheng, let's play that game too—!”
“I’m not doing this with you, Qingsong. Shang-shixiong, let's go. I wanted to talk to you about next month's produce quota.”
“Sure thing, Rong-shidi!”
“But, Qingsheng—!”
“Bye, Shen-ge, see you later!” Shang Qinghua chines cheerfully as he tugs the moping man after him. Rong Qingsheng walks out ahead of them. “I had a lot of fun today!”
“Sure,” Shen Qingqiu says, fan fluttering before his face.
He’d enjoyed it too, of course, but he’d never say that out loud. Besides, Airplane already knows, right? There’s no need.